


Pillow Talk

by mediwitch3



Series: Small Dick Buck [2]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Being Walked In On, Grinding, Lack of Communication, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rutting, Small Penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25262926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediwitch3/pseuds/mediwitch3
Summary: “Look, this is not a conversation I thought I’d be having today, but I’ll tell you something most girls have figured out by your age: put a pillow between your legs and grind on it.”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: Small Dick Buck [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830223
Comments: 45
Kudos: 269





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn’t supposed to happen.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @michaelgrantnash

The summer Buck turned fifteen, he grew four inches. He ached all the time, from his head to his toes, and he was snappish and irritable _constantly_.

His parents worked, usually, so they didn’t much care, but even Maddie, despite her unending patience, got fed up with him eventually.

“Buck,” he remembers her snapping, “go jerk off, I’m sick of you.”

And Buck, in his unfiltered fifteen year old desperation, answered, “I _can’t_!”

Which obviously made Maddie pretty concerned. “What do you mean ’you can’t ’?”

Because Buck was a teenager, he immediately got embarrassed and clammed up, refusing to admit to his sister that his hands were suddenly too big to hold his dick comfortably.

Because Maddie was (and is) a deceptively ruthless human being, she wouldn’t take no for an answer, eventually browbeating him into choking out his shame.

She sighed. “Look, this is not a conversation I thought I’d be having today, but I’ll tell you something most girls have figured out by your age: put a pillow between your legs and grind on it.”

“That works?” He asked, cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. Maddie just gave him a look. “Right. I’m gonna—”

“I don’t wanna know!” She said, and he nodded, escaping before they both lost their minds.

The pillow is a revelation.

So much so that he goes out and buys a special one, kept under his bed, so he doesn’t have to sleep on the one he comes all over.

It becomes a staple in his life, even when he’s seeing someone, because sometimes you just gotta be your own best friend, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

—

So the thing is, Buck and Eddie never actually had a conversation about what that night on the couch meant for their relationship.

In fact, Eddie hasn’t brought it up since it happened, and Buck made the first move last time, so it’s _Eddie’s_ turn, and Buck will be damned if he caves to the need to be touched before Eddie does.

What this means is Buck’s pillow gets a lot more use than it has been.

It’s not like he was _neglecting_ it, but his sex drive is a lot lower than it was when he was a teenager, and now that he’s approaching thirty at a frankly disgusting pace, it takes a lot longer to get himself off just by humping an inanimate object.

These days, he likes to put it on the arm of the couch, likes to straddle something firmer—theres a joke in there about hard wood, but Buck’s not gonna think too deeply about it.

He’s doing just that, thighs clenched tight around the pillow on the arm of the couch, rolling his hips and sweating, thinking about how Eddie felt to grind off on, with his hands and his abs and his cock, and he’s so hard, hands white knuckled on the arm and this close to coming, eyes squeezed tight—

“Buck?”

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

He falls off the arm of the couch with a thud, pillow still half trapped between his legs. His shirt’s twisted around his waist, and when he looks up at Eddie standing over him, upside down, he’s glad he thought to wear pants this time.

He’s still panting, knows he looks flushed and sweaty, and there’s the obvious question of why he has a pillow down here, and Eddie looks amused and confused at once, so Buck just gives him a sheepish little smile and says, “Hey, Eddie.”

“What were you doing?” Eddie asks, and Buck thinks he has an eyebrow raised but he can’t see well from his position on the floor. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Um.” Buck doesn’t know how to answer that, carefully scooches the pillow so it covers his crotch—it’s not like he’ll have a bulge, even though he’s still hard, but he feels less naked this way. He might be hallucinating, but he thinks he sees Eddie blush.

“Were you—” he cuts himself off, shakes his head, “never mind.”

Buck swallows, thinks this might be an opportunity. Says, carefully, slowly, “I was.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, and he’s definitely flushed now. “You were?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie looks a bit like he’s holding his breath, Adam’s apple bobbing under the stubble on his throat. Buck waits a moment, watches Eddie’s eyes trail over Buck’s body.

Finally, Eddie flexes his hands, gestures to the pillow still covering Buck’s (very modest) modesty. “Can I see?”

“Really?” Buck blurts. His cock twitches in his pants. 

“Really,” Eddie breathes, “please?”

And how can Buck say no to that?

He scrambles to get up, puts the pillow back in its place, then glances at Eddie for permission, blood pounding. Eddie’s eyes are bright and his mouth is wet, and Buck can see his pulse thundering in the vein in Eddie’s neck.

“Take your pants off,” Eddie murmurs, and Buck swallows, “I want to see all of you.”

Buck feels his hands shaking a little as he undoes the button of his jeans, pulls them down with his boxers in one move and then kicks them off his feet. He hears Eddie suck in a sharp breath, wonders what he looks like to someone who actually finds him attractive all the way down.

“Shirt too,” Eddie says, and his voice is deep and rough, the sound of it making Buck’s cock jerk and spit out a blurt of precome. Buck does as he’s told, stands naked and hard in front of Eddie, who looks about ready to devour him whole, and gets a little nod when Eddie realises Buck’s waiting for his cue.

Buck takes a breath, lifts a leg and sinks onto the pillow again, the fabric a little rough on his soft inner thighs, and he can feel the edge of the arm of the couch digging in on one side where he’s braced. He plants his hands on the arm in front of him for leverage, and starts grinding down.

Like this, with no pants, it’s more. He doesn’t usually do it this way, because he hates having to actually wash the pillow itself and not just the case, but he loves how it feels. He loves the caress of it on his cock and his balls and his ass, loves how wet it gets the harder he grinds, the longer he lasts.

He looks over at Eddie, through lidded eyes, can’t keep his hips still even while he does it, feels it in his belly and his balls and has to keep going. Eddie’s watching him intently, a step closer than before, and his hand is wrapped tight around the rather impressive tent in his pants, unmoving, like he’s holding back a race horse that raring to go.

Buck whimpers, rolls his hips and shifts his hands, swipes a tongue across his mouth. “You can—”

He cuts off on a moan, moving erratically now, dragging his cock through the mess of precome he’s made on the pillow. He was close before Eddie came in, and he’s close again now.

“I can what?”

Buck tips his head back, sitting up a bit so he can fold the pillow under him and keep humping. “Touch yourself. Touch me.”

Eddie makes a noise at that, half growl, half whine, and it sends a jolt of something hot through Buck’s belly.

He’s not expecting Eddie to climb up behind him, mounting the arm of the sofa and wrapping an arm around Buck’s waist. He presses up tight to Buck’s back, hot and hard from chest to hips, cinched against Buck’s ass so he can feel Eddie’s cock with every thrust.

Eddie pushes him forward, just enough that he can grind against Buck’s ass. Buck still has enough leverage to grind against the pillow, so he does, overwhelmed by the scratch of denim against his back and the soothe of cotton against his front.

“God, if you could see yourself,” Eddie murmurs, a rumble that echoes through Buck’s chest and huffs over Buck’s ear, “you look so good like this, so desperate.”

And Buck whines, presses back against Eddie’s cock and then into the pillow, and Eddie’s lips find his neck, feather light, and he comes everywhere, lit up from the inside and burning. His hips are still rolling, chasing the aftershocks, when Eddie moans, opening his jaw and clamping over Buck’s neck as he spills against Buck’s back.

They thrust together for another moment, hips rolling to a stop, panting and sweaty on the arm of the couch. They’re panting, catching their breath, when a thought occurs to Buck.

“Did you come over here for something?”

Eddie starts laughing, arms still vicelike around Buck’s stomach. “Are you kidding?”

“No?” Buck says. “But I’d love to be in on the joke.”

“Buck, it’s Saturday,” Eddie tells him, still laughing, “did you really forget you asked me to come over and help you mount the bike rack on your wall?”

“Oh,” Buck says, and feels a little embarrassed, “well...the day’s not totally lost. You did mount _something_.”

Eddie’s laughter echoes through his apartment, and Buck wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
